


Dating Blind

by aftersoon (notboldly)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-04 16:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notboldly/pseuds/aftersoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil doesn't exactly like being single. Jasper helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dating Blind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/gifts).



> Beta'd by [allochthon](http://allochthon.livejournal.com/)! Thank you so much for your help!

It was Jasper's idea, but like many of Jasper's ideas, it was motivated by Phil being in an uncommonly bad mood. Around the third time Phil's pen made an unfortunate crunching sound against paper, Jasper looked up from his own report with a frown and a raised eyebrow.

"When, uh, exactly did you break up with Carol?" he asked, and Phil shot him a perfectly bland smile. Jasper didn't take the hint. "Because I haven't seen you this tense since what's-his-name. Jason?"

"We're working, not talking about my romantic pursuits."

"Sorry," Jasper said, clearly not sorry at all and just as clearly not working. "It was Jeff, right?"

Phil sighed and set his pen aside; Jasper never did give up when he had his mind fixed on something, and he was a good friend in that he truly cared about the answers.

"That's right. And I broke up with Carol three weeks ago. Not that it matters." And it really didn't—the breakup had been coming for a while, like anyone would expect when a casual relationship felt the strain of one partner almost dying. It was perfectly normal.

"Oh, it _matters_." Phil raised an eyebrow at the emphasis, and Jasper studied his nails, giving up all attempts to look like he was actually here for a quiet place to work like he'd claimed that morning. "Say I know an interested party. Say they want to spend some time with you. Say you have the weekend off. Would you be free on Saturday?"

"That's a lot of assumptions."

"Come on, Phil," Jasper said, voice coaxing. "It won't kill you to go out every now and then." The joke fell flat even before it had fully left his mouth, and Phil didn't sigh. Everyone had been avoiding mentioning death around him since he'd been cleared for active duty, like he was some sort of skittish new recruit rather than a hardened, if fallible, agent. It was getting a little tiring.

Phil resisted the urge to rub at the twinge in his shoulder, and went back to his paperwork.

"Fine, Jasper, if it'll make you happy." A blind date. He could do one blind date.

Out of the corner of his eye, Phil saw Jasper grin like he'd just won a week's paid vacation.

"I'll make all the arrangements," he said, and Phil couldn't help but think it was a bad sign.

****

Phil had been on the wrong end of pranks before, but being told he'd been set up on a blind date and then showing up to find _Steve Rogers_ sitting casually at the table was definitely the worst of the lot.

"I'm going to kill Jasper," he said under his breath, and Steve—no, _Captain_ Rogers, that was better for his composure and sanity—looked up from his book. A smile formed on his face when he caught sight of Phil standing nearby, and the expression was so welcoming and relieved that it took Phil a moment to remember they were having lunch in a little café rather than neck-deep in a hostage situation.

Considering he would have vastly preferred the latter, Phil tried not to fidget or pull at the bottom of his turtleneck, even as he attempted to smile back. It was difficult when faced with Rogers in all his button-down shirt and pressed jeans glory.

"Phil? Is something wrong?"

Phil manfully didn't melt on the spot, although he'd still never dreamed of being called Phil so casually by someone he idolized. And really, that brought up the whole problem again, which was that this was supposed to be a _date_ , and someone (Jasper) had obviously miscommunicated something.

"I don't know. Maybe?" Phil sighed, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming on. "Captain—"

"Steve," he interrupted, and Phil clicked his mouth closed. "I mean, it's okay if you call me Steve, since we're supposed to spend the day together. Right?"

"I suppose," Phil agreed very slowly, his mind processing the new information. His fingers twitched. His almost-headache grew stronger. "I mean, yes. That's right."

What the hell, he figured. There were worse ways to spend a Saturday than in the company of a good man, even if their motives in showing up might have been different. Even if Phil had only just gotten over the urge to do something embarrassing every time they saw each other.

When Steve motioned to the seat across from him, Phil grabbed a menu and hurriedly sat down.

****

There were very obvious differences between having lunch with a civilian and having lunch with a colleague, and it took Phil the better part of an hour to get used to not having to watch his words as much as he usually did. Mission details were obviously still off the table given their unsecure location, but certain topics—injuries, the Avengers, the news, hobbies and such—were open and easy to discuss. Phil didn't say it was a relief considering he still had to worry about keeping face in front of Captain America, but it was significantly less stressful than he would have expected. When Steve asked him about his shoulder, Phil was able to say it was better, and after a year of physical therapy, he could mean that. Steve smiled in perfect understanding the entire time, and it made Phil feel…okay. Not pressured. Not like an invalid.

Steve was nice. It shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it was, but they'd never talked extensively; there'd never been time, and on Phil's end, at least, there had been a very high chance of embarrassment. Now there was a significantly higher chance of embarrassment, but Phil tried to ignore that. Tried not to say anything stupid.

It was inevitable, really, that the awkwardness would come out over sandwiches and coffee.

"No, you're my favorite superhero. Since I was nine, I think." Steve immediately looked uncomfortable, and Phil clenched his hands hard on the tabletop. Things had been going so _well_. "I mean…your comics. You know, about…your adventures." The explanation wasn't helping, and Phil reached for his water, guzzling it down and hoping it would keep the words from pouring out. He was amazed Steve hadn't made a superhuman dash for the door, rather than just sitting there with an impossibly attractive flush on his cheeks, his shirt all but bursting at the seams where it spanned his shoulders.

 _He's practically twenty-eight, Coulson, stop being a pervert. You're not on an actual date with the man._ The reminder didn't help.

Then, out of nowhere, Steve laughed.

"Yeah, you mentioned that." Steve twisted a fry between his fingers, looking reluctantly amused. Phil supposed it was the best reaction he could hope for. "Was I really that much of a hero to you?"

Phil shrugged, voice intentionally light when he spoke. "Well, you _are_." Among other things, he didn't say—he felt guilty enough about that, and there was a big difference between teenage fantasies and adult fantasies that were just as impossible if more based around a real man. "I'm sorry if it's embarrassing."

"It's not, really." Steve smiled faintly at his coffee, and the expression wasn't exactly a happy one. "But I don't think I'll ever get used to it. That's probably the worst thing about," he gestured, a wave of his arm meant to encompass the café and everything beyond it, "all _this_. The future."

"You seem to be handling it well," Phil said diplomatically, easily falling into his role. He could manage to be a friend.

It was like Steve read his mind, although Phil was very uncomfortable dwelling on that thought.

"I'm trying. The team helps, but…I just want to be your friend, Phil. I don't have to be your hero."

Phil wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but he promised to try, and they clinked their coffee cups together.

****

After lunch at the café, Phil wasn't sure what was on the agenda next, but fortunately Steve seemed to have some idea of where he wanted to go. Phil inevitably found himself playing clueless sidekick at least for a couple of blocks, but it wasn't something he minded, especially when his cooperation ended with them spending time in the Museum of Modern Art. Phil wasn't a particularly avid art fan, but Steve was, and watching him go from exhibit to exhibit was like watching someone see the stars for the first time. It might have been corny and a little sappy, but Phil enjoyed seeing Steve enjoy himself.

Besides, in complete fairness, the art wasn't _that_ bad. Phil even found a few pieces he thought he liked, although he had no idea what Cubism meant. Steve fortunately did, and having him explain it to Phil was an exercise in futility that left both of them laughing a little too hard for a museum setting. By the time the guards started shooting them annoyed looks, they were luckily already on their way outside. As they walked the crowded streets, the cool afternoon gave way to a chilly evening, and Phil admitted, if only to himself, that it had been a fun not-date.

Phil was ready to call it a day when Steve proposed they see a movie, and Phil shot him a look that was both surprised and suspicious. That…sounded strangely like a date.

Steve seemed baffled by the reaction. "What? Are we not supposed to?" He looked immediately uncertain like he hadn't since he'd been introduced to the internet, and Phil didn't want that in any way. "Jasper suggested—"

"Oh, right. Jasper." Back to that, it seemed. Phil forced down the surge of disappointment, even as he chastised himself for being stupid to believe it was anything other than miscommunication. "Sure. What did you have in mind?"

They agreed to see a newly released thriller, which didn't surprise Phil as much as it probably should have. Their lives were action movies, horror, and science fiction combined into one, and comedies depended so much on pop culture these days that Phil didn't think they'd appeal to Steve's tentative grasp of the time period; it relieved him somewhat, the break from everything, and it seemed to relieve Steve as well, who had seen a few Alfred Hitchcock films just before going under.

The movie wasn't half as interesting as watching it with Steve, though, and it was all but background noise when Steve instinctively grabbed his arm during the exciting climax. There'd be bruises tomorrow, probably, and Phil was more excited than he could say about that in polite company.

Needless to say, he didn't have much opinion about the movie itself, although Steve's excitement was contagious enough to keep him smiling anyway.

****

If the movie had felt like a date, the walk back to Phil's apartment made it seem even more so, and every other step he had to mentally kick himself to remind himself it wasn't. He couldn't help it—Steve was wonderfully enjoyable company, polite, a perfect gentleman. It was the sort of date Phil had dreamed about since college, and walking in the evening air, side by side, arms occasionally touching, was the cherry on the romantic fantasy. Phil hadn't even embarrassed himself since lunch, and that had to be a new record, both for Captain Rogers in particular and his dates (not-dates) in general.

Phil was feeling particularly proud of himself, in fact, right up until Steve said he'd had a good time, and then kissed him on the cheek. Phil was sure he flushed red right up to his hairline, and then stammered out something that barely sounded like a human language.

Steve just smiled.

"We should do this again sometime," he said, once Phil had babbled himself into silence over the fact that their not-date apparently _wasn't_. "Do you have any time next week?"

That snapped Phil out of whatever shock he'd been in, and he nodded quickly, too quickly. When Captain America asks you out, you don't hesitate.

"Sure. I'll…call you?" he said, and Steve nodded, then put his hands in his pockets and walked away. Phil stood there for a little longer, wondering about the signs he'd missed, and if he actually _did_ have time next week.

By the time he closed the door behind him, he'd made up his mind: one way or another, he'd definitely be thanking Jasper for this.

****

End


End file.
